Page 142 of The Housekeeper

“Too busy to see your grandchildren? Too busy to call?”

“I’m calling now, aren’t I?”

“Are you all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“How’s everything going?” I asked, trying a different tack.

“Everything is proceeding on schedule. Stephanie is a real ball of fire. No grass growing underherfeet.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, ignoring the inference that implied grass was definitely sprouting under mine.

“She tells me that you missed out on a sale in Moore Park by a bid of only five thousand dollars.”

“Well, you never know how much someone else is going to bid,” I said wearily.

“Is there anything else?” my father asked. “I should get going.”

“Where are you going?”

“Elyse will be looking for me. She gets anxious when she can’t find me.”

“I don’t understand. Where are you?”

“In the bathroom. She wouldn’t like it if she found out I was talking to you.”

“What do you mean, she wouldn’t like it? What about whatyoulike? Dad? Dad?”

But my questions went unanswered, and by the time I hung up and returned to the dining room, Harrison had already left the table, leaving most of his stew untouched, and my dinner was cold.

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